Maybe a snowstorm would break out in hell and somebody would give him a chance on the site. Then he could be one of the guys flirting with her. She never seemed to notice any time he’d tried in real life but…
Chapter Four
Noel’s hands dug into her hips.
He all but ground her into the table and Lizzie clutched at it, tried to center herself even as he drove into her. “Noel—”
One hand left her hip to come up, press her face into the table even as she went to lift it and she closed her eyes—half to escape, half to try and find the pleasure she should feel.
With something closer to desperation than she liked, she reached out…latched on. Pleasure…she was supposed to feel.
Words rolled through her mind.
Not Noel’s.
She didn’t know who he was.
I can’t sleep at night for thinking about touching you …
As Noel drove into her again, she latched onto the last dirty little story he’d sent her.
I can see you spread out in front of me. You’ll be soft, all over…inside, outside…and wet for me. If you’re not, I’ll lick you until you are.
A soft cry escaped her. Noel made a grunt of approval, not even realizing it wasn’t anything he did.
Do you like to touch yourself? I want to think you do. I put my hand on my cock and think about you. I want to think about you sliding your fingers down your belly, between your thighs and stroking, stroking…
She worked her hips up, driving them back against Noel and heard his pleased mutter, something she pushed away. Eyes closed, she slid two fingers around her clit, blocking out what was happening in the real world.
Touch yourself. Make your hand wet, slide your fingers in…and out…
She imagined doing that and slowly started to move, finally finding some level of arousal, tightening herself around the cock thrusting inside her.
She’d be embarrassed about it later.
But for now all she could think about was the fact that she felt wanted—just not by the man fucking her.
Now imagine it’s not your fingers fucking you. But my cock. I want to be the one moving in you. Tasting you. Touching. Feeling you come—
She cried out just as Noel stiffened.
And when he pulled away, she remained where she was for a long moment, still shaking through the orgasm.
It was probably the best one she’d ever had. And she really wished Noel hadn’t been involved at all.
Noel came into the bathroom while she was cleaning up.
She ducked her head, not wanting to look at him.
That didn’t stop him from sliding his hands around her to cup her breasts. “I can’t decide if it’s the fact that I haven’t seen you in over a week that made it so good, or the fact that it seemed like it took you a while to warm up,” he murmured, scraping his teeth down her neck. “Which one was it? Because I definitely want to feel you come like that again.”
Neither. I was thinking about another guy, she thought sourly.
It had been a month since they’d begun this mockery of a relationship—this so-called open relationship. And while she was talking casually to a number of guys, she’d only had private conversations with a few of them—and one of them was becoming a nightly star in her dreams.
He was coming into her dreams far more than Noel ever had, a fact that unsettled her even more as Noel went to kiss her again. There was a sharp twist in her belly as he acknowledged he was aware that she hadn’t really wanted to have sex. Even though she hadn’t said no.
Of course, none of this would have happened if Elizabeth hadn’t let Noel inside when he’d knocked. She hadn’t really wanted to see him—and wasn’t that bizarre? She hadn’t wanted to see him, but when he called out her name, she hadn’t been able to ignore him.
No wasn’t her strong suit, especially with him, because he made her feel so bad after. She couldn’t ignore him at the door. And when he’d started to slide his hands under her skirt, she hadn’t told him no then, either. Even though she’d turned away from his kisses, even though she’d tugged his hands away from her clothes.
But he’d known—
Stop it. She didn’t let herself finish the thought and she wouldn’t because it put her in a bad place, where there were bloody things, and screams, and she lost what mattered most.
Thoughts of that had her reaching up to catch Noel’s wrist as he sought out her nipple, tweaking it with more force than she liked. “Noel, I need to clean up and get dressed,” she said, her voice stiff. And she was braced, she realized, already braced for him to be angry.
Why…
Because she’d said no.
As she shot him a look, she saw that she was right.
Oh, he didn’t show it. He kept his face relaxed, a smile on his mouth. But it glinted, right there in his sharp green eyes. “Was I a little too rough with you?”
Yes. She didn’t let herself say it, though. She was sore, but she’d get over it. It wasn’t the first time he’d been careless. Instead of answering his question, she just shrugged. “It’s not that. I’ve got plans tonight and I have to get ready. You should probably leave. I don’t want to be late.”
“Plans.” He reached up, rubbed and stroked a finger down his sideburns. “Are you going out with Selah?”
“No. I’ve got a date.”
She glanced up into the mirror as she said it, checking her hair. Did she need to wash it—
In the mirror, she caught sight of his face. The flash of disbelief, followed by an anger that rolled across his face had a chill racing down her spine. Caution, caution, caution—
She eased to the side, turning to give him a smile as she cut around him. A hundred little warnings started to blare in her head. Don’t let yourself get trapped. Don’t make him angry—
She silenced them with a mental shake of her head. This was a different time, a different place. A different man.
“A date…so this is through the site, huh?” There was amusement in his voice now. “I hope you’re being careful, sweetheart. A lot of those guys love to play with girls like you. You’re just naïve enough for them to have fun.”
She gave him a narrow look. Naïve?
“I’d hate for you to get hurt,” he said, reaching up and cupping her cheek.
She turned away, staying silent.
“If you’re having second thoughts, we can go out instead. You should have a contact for him. Just call, tell him you changed your mind. Or I can handle it—”
“I’m not changing my mind,” she said calmly. “We’re just having drinks. And we’re meeting at Rush. Pixie’s group is playing and Decker and Selah will be around. If it goes bad, I’ll signal one of them.”
The odd, strained silence that fell was little surprise. Noel liked Decker about as much as Decker liked him. They couldn’t stand each other. Noel really didn’t fit in with anybody she cared about. He didn’t fit in anywhere in her life. Sometimes, not even with her.
“You really think relying on an ex-con is the best—”
“Don’t.” The fury sprang forward and she whirled on him, thoughts of caution fading into the background. She strode to him and jabbed her finger into his chest.
Surprise lit his eyes.
“Don’t ever talk about him like that,” she said, cutting him off when he went to open his mouth. Nobody got to dismiss Decker like that. Nobody. “You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know he has a record.” Noel caught her wrist, squeezing when she tried to jerk away. “Isn’t that enough? What the fuck do you see in that thug? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a thing going for him—I know plenty of women go for the big and tattooed look, but sweetheart, that man isn’t ever going to find what he needs from a girl like you, and you know it.”
The sharp little pain in her chest didn’t make sense. Decker was her friend. Her best friend. That was what he needed from her, what she needed from him. “You’re wrong,�
� she said, shaking her head. This time, she moved into him, just enough, catching him off-guard. His grip loosened and she jerked away. “We’re friends. That’s all we are, all we’ll ever be. But he’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I won’t hear you talk about him that way.”
Backing away, she put herself in the middle of the room. As Noel’s gaze landed on her, she fought the urge to back even farther away. That look…she didn’t like it. It was an ugly sort of look, and then he cocked his head and the look she’d thought she saw was gone.
Still, the uneasiness lingered. “I need to finish getting ready, Noel.”
“Sure.” He gave her an easy smile. “Maybe we can have lunch together, though. Tomorrow.”
“I don’t know…”
He moved in, then, and when he brushed her hair back, cupped her face tenderly, that odd, wistful yearning inside her twisted and sighed. “I miss you. We’re supposed to date others…that doesn’t mean we let each other go.” His mouth brushed over hers and the gentleness there seemed to whisper an apology. “Don’t you miss me? At all?”
The awful thing was that she wasn’t sure she did.
This whole thing had been about making him appreciate her more.
Instead she found herself seeing less and less about him that she could appreciate.
Stop it. You love him…don’t you?
Floundering in a rush of confusion, she forced a smile. “We can try lunch. I’m working, though. Want to meet at La Rosa? Around one?”
His name was Loren.
Loren was five-ten, a little solid through the middle—the way a football player would have been, she decided. He still looked pretty fit and he looked at her in a way that made her feel like she was completely beautiful.
He called her beautiful, and for a little while, Elizabeth even felt like she was.
It might have been easier to relax if she wasn’t acutely aware of Decker and Selah in a booth between them and the door. All she had to do was send them a look and they’d be over there.
But she was having fun.
Loren was a welder and he also liked to do art in his free time—metal art. He had some pictures up on his profile, which was one of the reasons she’d decided she’d accept his messages. He hadn’t just posted dick pictures. Actually, he hadn’t posted any dick pictures.
None of the “connections” she’d accepted had dick pictures posted. If a guy was going to just put it all out there like that…well, no. Not what she was looking for.
“A coffee shop. So what got you interested in that?”
Looking in Loren’s eyes, she smiled. He had great eyes. The darkest, most amazing brown. “Would you believe a serious caffeine addiction? This way, I can be around it, drink it to my heart’s content…I can go to other coffee shops and drink it and call it researching the competition…” She grinned at him.
He chuckled. “You sound like me and my wine fixation. I homebrew and I’ll go out of my way to hit a winery when I see one.” He buffed his nails. “I gotta see how others are doing it, right?” Then he winked at her.
“Oh. Absolutely.” She nodded to Pixie up on the stage and said, “You ought to hear Pixie talking wine. She can wax on for hours. I barely know the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Blanc…except…well. I hate both.”
Loren arched his brows.
“Sorry.” She winced. “I like wine, it’s just the dry stuff…” She shuddered.
A low, easy laugh rolled out of him and he leaned forward, his biceps brushing against her arm. “That’s okay, beautiful. Besides, I’m not much for a Pinot Blanc myself. I won’t turn down a good Pinot Noir every now and then, but it’s not one of my favorites, either.”
He was easy to talk to. Why was it easy with him and yet, she fumbled for words with Noel and so many other guys, she wondered? Not all of them, but too many. Sitting around here, chatting with Loren wasn’t quite the same as it was with Decker, but then again…nobody was Decker.
“Want to dance?”
Jerking her mind away from it, she swallowed and slid a look out to the floor.
“It’s cool if you don’t.”
She looked back at him, saw by the look in his eyes he absolutely meant it.
“Yeah. I’d like to dance,” she said, more nervous by the idea than she liked. But if she was really going to try this dating thing, didn’t that include things like dancing?
“They’re dancing.”
Decker ignored Selah, instead focusing on the letter.
When Wanna Play had approved his application, he’d thought maybe it was a joke. Or a mistake. But then he’d set up his profile. He was told from the get-go that if he made any “connections”, they would be notified that he had a criminal history and any connections, at that time, could request more information.
He’d deal with that when it happened.
Because the site was indeed very social, he had dropped by the walls of a few, chatted with a couple of women, but for the most part, not that many tried to make a connection. The few who did, he just ignored them.
And focused on the big picture. On the woman who mattered.
Who had always mattered.
“Carajo! Decker, my friend,” Selah said, leaning closer so she could yell in his ear. “Whatever you’re doing…keep doing it.”
He shot a look up…and gripped his phone so tightly, the plastic casing threatened to crack.
They were on the far edge of the dance floor, outlined by the smoky blue light. And Loren—that was the fuck’s name—Loren had his hand fisted in Lizzie’s hair while his mouth was busy on hers. And Lizzie was clutching at him. He was kissing her senseless and Decker could tell, even from here, that she was enjoying it.
“Man, why you taking so long? She’s going to fall in love with somebody—for real, this time, if you keep waiting around,” Selah murmured.
He didn’t say anything. Just sat there. Stared.
Even when Loren stroked a hand down to rest low on Lizzie’s back, all he did was watch.
It wasn’t until they moved back into the flow of bodies that he let himself look away.
“Decker—”
“Stop,” he said, squeezing the words out as he stared at the screen. “I know you’re trying to help, but until she’s ready to give me a chance, I have to be careful how I handle this.”
“This is how you handle it?” Selah asked. She flew off, launching into a litany of Spanish, and for a minute, Decker managed to smile.
She started to wind down, muttering under her breath for a few more seconds. Finally, she flung out a hand toward the dance floor, almost knocking over the Guinness he’d ordered. “Qué carajo clase de mierda jodida es ésta? You stupid pendejo. You want to watch her go out on dates, huh? That is your master plan? You sit by while other guys find out how amazing she is? That’s not a plan. That’s stupid.”
A headache pulsed behind his right eye. “I know what I’m doing.”
At least he hoped he did.
He was betting everything he had on it. Decker didn’t have much. Just his heart and soul, and she pretty much owned those anyway, so what did he have to lose, really?
I had a dream about you last night.
Lizzie rubbed at her tired eyes as she leaned against the counter. She’d opened the app for Wanna Play after she’d brewed herself the strongest, hottest cup of coffee imaginable and now, with one line—those seven simple words—one of her connections had managed to clear her mind better than ten cups of coffee—and he had about the same effect on her heart.
Oleander.
That was what he went by. The name on his profile, once she’d accepted his connection request, was Chuck. Chuck Oleander.
She liked Oleander, even though it was an odd pick for a name.
Granted, it might be possible that she liked him because of the name.
She had a love for oleander, even as deadly as it could be.
That was why she’d clicked on his profile anyway.
&n
bsp; She knew Chuck Oleander might not be his real name—she used Tin Lizzie for her profile—so yeah, the name thing was a weird reason to base anything on, but he’d met her other standard—he didn’t post dick pics.
She rubbed her lip for a minute before she opened the messenger center and replied.
Did you?
Yes. I’d tell you, but it would embarrass you. His reply somehow managed to convey teasing and a subtle warning. Why don’t you tell me what you did instead?
Maybe I want to hear about the dream.
She checked the time. She had a good forty minutes before she had to open the doors and everything was mostly ready. She could…she bit her lip, guilt niggling inside her. Was it bad that she was actually enjoying this?
Well, the thing is, I tell you all about my dreams, tell you all sorts of things about me. But you don’t talk that much about you.
She bit her lip. This was where she got nervous. Okay, she’d had fun with Loren last night—so much fun. And he’d kissed her…
Her heart sped up thinking about it. He’d kissed her, pulled her in so tight, she’d felt everything. So maybe that solid body of his wasn’t all rock-hard muscle like Decker, but he was definitely strong and he definitely wanted her. She’d felt it. Through both their clothes, there had been no doubt about the fact that his hard-on had been pressed up against her belly as he kissed his way down her neck.
It had been…fun.
But she still didn’t understand why he’d wanted to go out with her to begin with.
Or Oleander.
Especially Oleander.
The few pictures he had online didn’t show his face, but the man was ripped. There was one of him in a skin-tight black shirt and the muscles he had would have given Chris Hemsworth as Thor as run for his money. He was probably as built as Decker.
Deceptions: A Collection Page 5